


Happy Accidents

by LadyAmalthea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Sex, M/M, Short One Shot, USB Blasting, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Vagina, hurt/comfort?, wireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-18 21:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17588738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: Connor needs help with an injury, which means asking Hank to get into his wires.Itty bitty ficlet!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluejorts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/gifts).



Most of Connor’s injuries were easy enough for him to fix on his own However, some areas weren’t as easy for him to work on just himself.

 

They had been out dealing with a case late at night, and after an encounter with their outraged suspect, the deviant officer received a strike to his back with a steel baseball ball. 

 

Deviancy came with its perks and downfalls, particularly with feeling; his sensors fired with pain as he pushed himself back up. 

 

Hank had caught up to them, but in fear that he would get hit, Connor bolted between the two and managed to grab the bat with his hands. “Now, Hank!” 

 

Sometimes, Connor forgot just how strong Hank was. Especially times like this where he managed to rip the man away from his weapon, tightly grabbed both wrists with one hand as he cuffed them behind the man’s back. Trying to wriggle out of Hank’s clutches as they stared toward the street, the suspect cursed them both out over Hank’s scripted dialogue of his rights.

 

“C’mon, let’s go wait for backup,” he grumbled, nudging their suspect to start moving but noticed his partner was hesitant. “Connor, you good?”

 

Collecting himself, Connor struggled through the painful misfires of his artificial nerves, “Coming, Lieutenant.”

 

He gritted his teeth through the whole procedure as Tina and Chris pulled up in their patrol car, letting Hank shove the man into the backseat and slam the door shut. “Hopefully he’ll calm down a little on the drive downtown. Good luck, you two.”

 

The two of them waved away the vehicle, watching it go around the corner. Hank stretched out his arms, cracking his neck with a sigh of relief. “Well, that was enough excitement for one day. Ready to go home?”

 

Connor nodded, walking stiffly to where Hank had parked his car. After a few blocks, his attempts to hid the injury were noticed, and the lieutenant stopped with his arms crossed.

 

“Why’re you walkin’ all funny?” 

 

“I sustained some damage dealing with our suspect,” Connor explained, glancing nervously at the low height of the car.

 

Hank frowned, “Geez, you gonna be all right?”

 

“I will correct the issue when we arrive back at your-”

 

“ _ Our,  _ Connor.”

 

“Apologies, our home,” the android smiled bashfully. He managed through the car ride home, the discomfort subsiding for most of the car ride until they arrived at their destination. 

 

Connor reserved any display of pain as he methodically removed his jacket, excusing himself to the bathroom. His house-mate was used to it by now, with his usual maintenance and previous repairs.

 

However, after undressing completely to assess the extent of his damage, Connor realized his own foolishness. He wouldn't be able to correct the issue, let alone even see what he was doing.

 

He would have to request Hank's help, either directly or to be driven to a repair clinic. Putting his jeans back on, he stepped part-way out of bathroom.

 

“Hey, Hank?” He called out.

 

“Yeah?” His partner replied, turning from the couch. Hank must have been reading, because he slid away his reading glasses to look across the room.

 

Connor's thirium pump thudded rapidly, “i believe I require s-some assistance, Lieutenant.”

 

Hank groaned a little as he stood from the couch, his back cracking in five places. He scratched at his belly, heading toward the tiled room. “All right, I'm coming. But don't be surprised if I fuck everything up.”

 

The deviant nodded, retreating just as Hank walked in. He turned to show his partner the damage, “I assure you the correction will not be as complicated as it appears.”

 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Con! What happened?” Hank approached him resting a hand on Connor left shoulder. From the right shoulder and down diagonally, there was a flickering indentation across Connor’s back. The white of his chassis exposed, Hank winced as he brushed his fingers along the protruding edges.

 

“Ah-!” Connor gasped.

 

Hank fingers… it felt so  _ different _ . Sure, hank had touched him before, and it had felt nice. But this was more intimate; either from his exposed back or the wound itself. It didn't quite feel like pain, but there was something so raw about the calloused digits touching him like that.

 

“Fuck,” Hank recoiled slightly. “Did that hurt?”

 

Connor gave an uncertain expression, “It didn't feel like pain, but, it's nothing i can't handle. I will instruct you for each step, thank you for your cooperation.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, you did a pretty good job with those stitches last month, it's the least I can do. What first?”

 

Connor shifted himself against the counter, so he could make eye contact with Hank through the mirror. “The exterior panels will need to be removed,” he started. “Just the higher one, for now.”

 

“Okay…” Hank thumbed along the top edge of the plate, “how?”

 

“A pair of tweezers would work fine. The piece has been unlocked and should come off with little effort,” the android explained, bracing himself.

 

Hank grabbed a pair of tweezers from the top drawer, adjusting his glasses to the tip of his nose as he lifted the white panel away, setting it down beside the sink. “There’s a lot of shit goin’ on back here. You sure about this?”

 

“Absolutely,” Connor assured. He was a little breathless; Hank was capable and fairly dexterous for his age. It would be fine. “There are a few severed connections, including a thirium line. I have manually isolated the break, it requires a fair amount a pressure and the line will refuse on own.”

 

“Oh, so you're self-healing thing?” 

 

“Correct, it just needs so-” He was choked off with a gasp, each end of the tubing gripped between the thumb and forefinger of Hank's hand. “Uuuhh-ummm…” His ventilation protocols kicked in, and he panted slightly. “You'll need to hold it for a little while.”

 

“Lemme get closer so I can make sure I'm doing this right-” Hank's leg pressed Connor against the edge of the counter, and his left hand flung up to steady himself against the mirror. “Good?”

 

“Y-y-yes, that's it,” Connor stuttered, mouth hung open as he waited for the timer to go off. Every second seemed to last a lifetime, and all he could think about was the warm, solid mass leaning against him. The unusual sensitivity from his circuits dissipated since they weren't being fiddled with, but the effects of if hadn't gone away. 

 

And then, there was another problem to worry about. 

 

Something about the whole procedure had activated his genital components. Sure, he had gotten them out of curiosity, managing to stimulate himself to orgasm once or twice; but why was _ this _ getting him going? As long as the process went quickly, he could avoid having to explain it to Hank, and maybe figure out if it was malfunctioning somehow. 

 

3…2...1…

 

“It should be all right to let go of,” Connor directed, feeling the pressure lessen and exhaling in slight relief. 

 

Hank didn't step to far away, his face close to make sure it truly had healed. “All right… I think it's ok, what's next?”

 

Re-bracing himself, Connor's voice shook a little, “Component number 6345-T needs to be snapped back into place.”

 

Through their eye contact via the mirror, Hank glared at the android, “And what does that mean?”

 

“There should be a piece at the end of a thick cable that is loose, look for something dark grey.”

 

After a palpably tense minute or so, Connor felt a caress down the cable and whined uncontrollably. “Th- that would be i-it-t!”

 

“Are you sure it doesn't hurt, Connor? Your voice is going all wonky,” Hank sighed. “Oh, shit…”

 

Connor tensed, “I’ll manage. What’s wrong?”

 

“You said the part at the end needs to click into something, right? ‘Cuz this wire is tangled up, and it's gonna take some finagling.” To prove his point, he tugged on the cord a little. 

 

“Nnnnn- Hank!” He didn't mean for it to come out so… so strongly. “Just do it!”

 

With heavy breaths, several wires were pushed away to allow the correct cable to come free. The bit on the end, which to Hank looked something like an old phone charger with a thick cylinder on the end, which would plug into a protected box of circuits. He could put together where it needed to go from the shape on the end, but took his time to make sure he didn't mess things up. 

 

His partner appreciated the concern, but the contact continued to drive him crazy with sensory input; to avoid damage to the mirror, he brought his arms across the counter and bent over the surface. 

 

“Almost got it,” the lieutenant assured.

 

Connor whispered quietly, mostly for himself, “Please, please,  _ please _ …”

 

The cable finally dislodged, Hank lined it up with the connection. “Count of three, ok?” He waited for his partner to nod with tightly shut eyes, and lined up the piece. “One, two-” Without counting the next number outloud, he pushed it into place as the body beneath he shook. 

 

Connor moaned loudly, painfully on the edge and definitely soaking lubricant through his jeans. “F-f-fuuuucckkk!” He rutted his ass against Hank by accident, “Please… keep… touching me….”

 

Counter to his fear that Hank would be freaked out, he merely replied with a little hesitance. “Where? Connor, what's going on, did I mess something up.”

 

The android had no excuse, and was too worked up to find an excuse. “F-feels good…  _ please _ ! Your fingers feel amazing inside me!”

 

“Oh-  _ Oh… _ ” Realization hit Hank, and he blushed hard as he laughed nervously, showing his toothy smile. “Right, okay,” he stroked his thumb against another bundle of wires, bringing his other arm around Connor's waist. 

 

Lost in the throes of pleasure, Connor bucked his hips with louder, lewd sobs; the intense feelings making his eyes water. “Don’t be- don't be gentle. I'm so close,  _ Haa-aaankkk _ ! Ahh-ohh!”

 

Obeying mercifully, Hank sunk his thick fingers in as far as they would go, pushing the pads of his fingers against whatever was beneath. 

 

It was enough for Connor's body to hit its climax, the circuits lighting up inside as he cried out in shallow, breathy, incoherent pleas. He was held tightly as he body shook, his vaginal component pulsing and the damp spot in his pants growing. 

 

By the time the orgasm had subsided, he was laying flat against the sink's counter, two sets of heavy breaths filling the small bathroom. 

 

Eventually, Hank backed away, immediately conscious of what just happened. “I’ll… uhhh… let you have a minute,” he muttered, hastily escaping.

 

They were going to have to talk about this… but first, Connor needed to get cleaned up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick follow-up, because I was berating myself for the cliffhanger!

Connor took a few minutes to collect himself: drying his body and pants as much as he could, and awkwardly replacing the place over the back of his shoulder. All the while, berating himself. How could he lose self-control like that? His chest ached like his thirium pump had been twisted, grinding against his chassis. 

 

But… Hank had kept going, even when it was clear what was happening. Could he reciprocate Connor's feelings, or was it just out of pity? 

 

He didn't want to emerge from the bathroom, but he knew at one point or another he would need to. Tentatively, he opened the bathroom door and checked that Hank wasn't in his bedroom. It was more concerning that he heard the familiar clinking of a whiskey bottle, so he would have to make it quick. 

 

He dashed across to the bedroom, pulling open the bottom dresser drawer to change into his “home” clothes. It was more like pajamas; a plain, grey v-neck shirt and soft cotton pants with pawprints on then. His back still ached, but he could figure out a way to deal with it later. 

 

Padding out if the bedroom, the two of them spotted each other. 

 

On the table was, in fact, the bottle of Black Lamb, but the glass in front of him was filled with cola. The man looked a little apologetic when Connor looked at the liquor with a small exhale. 

 

“I measured it out,” Hank defended. “Only a shot, I promise.”

 

Nodding, Connor approached slowly, “Okay.” 

 

There was silence, as the impending conversation was ignored a little longer. Hank sipped his drink, scratching a dry spot in his hair. 

 

“I want to-” Connor finally blurted, “apologize.” 

 

Hank nodded, face expressionless. “Uhhh… all right.”

 

The deviant continued, “I didn't know that, ummm,  _ that _ would happen. It must've made you uncomfortable-”

 

“Connor…”

 

“- and I should not have put you in that position.” He stared down at the floor, “I'm so sorry, Hank.”

 

His partner frowned, inhaling deeply before speaking. “Honestly, I was concerned that I was hurting you. But, apology accepted, if it makes you feel better, okay?”

 

Connor opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again with his brows drawn together. “Are you… not angry with me?”

 

“What?” Hank asked, lips curling up slightly. “Of course not,” he shrugged, taking a deep gulp of boozed soda. 

 

“But you… you didn't…”

 

Hank waved him over to sit down, and he complied with confusion written all over him. 

 

“I'm not prudent, or touchy about sex. I'm too old for that bullshit, ya know?” Connor noticed his heart rate and exterior temperature were both elevated, cheeks tinged red. “As long as I didn't overstep your boundaries…?” 

 

“N-no! I mean, I did ask you to, I guess,” the android rubbed his palms. “But I… the circumstances that it happened under, and-” his own stress levels spiked. “I really like you.”

 

Hank chuckled, making Connor blush, “I sure hope so, if you're living here and haven't asked Fowler for a new-” 

 

He stopped talking; Connor raised his eyebrows.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yes?” Connor asked.

 

“You mean you…  _ like _ me.”

 

“Yes.” 

 

Hank leaned back in his chair, feeling vaguely like a dumbass as he slowly took in the new information.

 

“Hank…”

 

“But  _ why _ ?”

 

“Because you're-” He smiled slightly, “Because of times like this. You aren't easily put off, and you are understanding and kind.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Hank didn't seem convinced.

 

“And you're  _ big...  _ In a good way!” 

 

The man snorted, finally breaking from his dumbfounded daze. “All right, all right.”

 

“I'm serious!”

 

“I… I guess you must be,” he figured aloud.

 

Connor felt a little relieved, but soon realized something was lacking. “And you?”

 

“Me… what?”

 

“Do you- how do you feel about me?”

 

“Uhhmmm… well…” Hank shifted in his chair, crossing his arms and mumbling slightly. “Of course I like you.”

 

Immediately, Connor beamed a sunny smile, “Really?”

 

“Yeah. Do you want a list too, or can I put my face on your face already?”

 

Connor stood inhumanly fast, launching into Hank’s lap for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss; perfect and messy enough to make Hank release a rumbling laugh as he reached around to pull Connor closer.

 

Unfortunately, both of then had forgotten about the injury until the Hank brushed the indented plastic at the same time Connor gasped and clutched at his partner’s shirt.

 

“Maybe we should finish dealing with that… yeah?” The android agreed quietly, sliding away to allow Hank to stand up and look around for a moment. “Let's just do it in here, yeah? Do you need any thirium?” He rolled up his sleeves, already stepping toward the fridge. 

 

“Two units, but I can get-” There was no point in continuing, his partner already returning to the table with the bottles of blue liquid. 

 

“Switch your chair around,” Hank motioned, grabbing his own. “I want to do this for ya, and I could use the practice for next time.”

 

“Next time?”

 

He shrugged, watching as Connor sat backwards on the seat with his arms folding across the wood frame, head leaning into them. 

 

“Yeah, trust me… it's not the first time you're going to be coming home with a few bumps and scrapes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Busted this out in less than a day... thanks to bluejorts for the inspiration! :D 
> 
> Come say hi on twitter:  
> Come say hi on Twitter: [LadyAmalthea](https://twitter.com/canticumexvacui?s=09)


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